


you came and i was longing for you

by thewalrus_said



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time, Hand Jobs, Lingerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 14:30:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21017312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/pseuds/thewalrus_said
Summary: Part of the deal, worked out over several therapy sessions and one tense conversation with their sponsors, was that the Crispino twins would have separate rooms. This was great for Mickey’s codependency issues, and for Emil’s crush, but terrible in all other respects. Now, when they were all four at competitions together, instead of Mila and Emil leaving the Crispino suite together to drink and cry about the state of their hearts, Emil left with Mickey at eleven on the dot and Mila stayed. Alone. With Sara. Usually tipsy.Sara was beautiful when she was tipsy. She was always beautiful, but her face flushed and she laughed more easily with a few glasses of wine, head tilted to one side and long loose hair falling over her face. Mila just got awkward, forgetting how to speak in complete sentences.





	you came and i was longing for you

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sunday.
> 
> Thanks to [BlackGoddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackgoddess) for beta/cheerleading!

Part of the deal, worked out over several therapy sessions and one tense conversation with their sponsors, was that the Crispino twins would have separate rooms. This was great for Mickey’s codependency issues, and for Emil’s crush, but terrible in all other respects. Now, when they were all four at competitions together, instead of Mila and Emil leaving the Crispino suite together to drink and cry about the state of their hearts, Emil left with Mickey at eleven on the dot and Mila stayed. Alone. With Sara. Usually tipsy.

Sara was beautiful when she was tipsy. She was always beautiful, but her face flushed and she laughed more easily with a few glasses of wine, head tilted to one side and long loose hair falling over her face. Mila just got awkward, forgetting how to speak in complete sentences.

The night after the 2018 European Championships ended, the four of them gathered in Sara’s room to celebrate her gold medal and Mickey’s bronze, Mila’s silver and Emil’s new personal best total score. Emil kept throwing Mila sympathetic looks, because the wine hadn’t even been opened yet but Sara was drunk on victory, lipstick still smudged onto her mouth where she hadn’t been able to get it off for smiling.

The red wine was only half empty when Mickey left, Emil trailing after him. He threw Mila one last grimace before he left, where she was stretched out on the floor, Sara leaning off the edge of the bed to talk to her.

The room went quiet after the boys left, and Mila looked over just in time to see Sara reach out and trace a line on the back of Mila’s hand. “This is a good night.”

“The best night,” Mila agreed. A few moments of silence passed, Sara’s fingers still moving down Mila’s wrist, before she broke. “Gotta use the toilet. Back in a moment.”

“Take your time,” Sara called, as the bathroom door closed after Mila.

Mila did take her time washing her hands, staring at herself in the mirror. It was a constant wonder to her that Sara hadn’t seemed to pick up on the fact that Mila was in love with her; it was written everywhere on her face. Obliviousness must run in the Crispino bloodline.

At least she wasn’t Emil, she consoled herself, running wet hands through her hair. Mickey could be downright cruel, shoving Emil away and pulling him closer in turns. Sara was always happy to see Mila, full of hugs and casual touches and hair-petting. Torture, but the kind Mila could live with for the rest of her life.

Finally Mila dried her hands and opened the door. “I should get going,” she said, closing the door behind her. “It’s late, and we have the gala tomorrow -”

She froze. Sara had changed while she was in the bathroom, and was now in the shortest, laciest black robe Mila had ever seen, fiddling with something on her nightstand. Mila choked, and Sara turned around. The robe was open in front, and Sara was wearing a bra and panties underneath, and nothing else. “I thought maybe you might like to spend the night,” Sara said, moving around to stand at the edge of the bed. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, but when Mila managed to tear her eyes away from the skin under Sara’s navel, her face was calm, and she was smiling.

Somehow Mila managed to get enough moisture into her mouth to say, “I haven’t showered.”

Sara shrugged. “Neither have I. We can do that after.” Her smile turned a little wicked. Mila’s knees went weak. “No point to it now, I think.”

Mila took one step closer, and when the floor didn’t open up below her feet, she took another, and another, until she was close enough to Sara to see the places where mascara still clumped her lashes together. Mila lifted her hand, willed it to stop shaking, and placed it gently on Sara’s breast, where the bra gave way to smooth, warm skin.

Sara took in a shaky breath, and that was that - Mila’s other hand went to the back of her head and they were kissing, Sara’s hands skating over Mila’s neck and grabbing at the fabric of her post-competition lounge shirt. Her tongue was in Mila’s mouth, and every time Mila twitched the hand on her breast a little tighter she gasped, little whimpers that turned into a grunt as they fell backwards onto the bed. With her other hand, Mila started yanking at the robe until it fell down Sara’s shoulders to puddle beneath them.

“Off, off,” Sara said, tugging at Mila’s shirt, and Mila knelt up to pull it off. She had forgone a bra, and the warmth of Sara’s hands as they reached up to cup her breasts made her moan, leaning forward to press herself against Sara and kiss her again.

Sara, bless her clever brain, had chosen a bra that clasped in the front. When Mila finally tore herself away from Sara’s mouth, she kissed down to it, biting her collarbones and putting her mouth to the exposed top of her left breast, sucking hard. Sara nearly shouted, and Mila fingered the clasp. “Can I -”

“Yes, yes, for the love of god, _ please,_” Sara said, and Mila undid the clasp and let the cups fall open. Mila wanted to cry, but instead slid a little lower down Sara’s body and skimmed her tongue over a nipple. Sara’s hands tightened in her hair and on her shoulder. “Damn it, Mila, stop teasing me,” she gasped when Mila bit down.

Smirking around the nipple still in her mouth, Mila let her hand travel down Sara’s stomach, feeling it twitch and shudder, and slipped her fingers through the hair they found, not stopping until she felt Sara’s clit under the pad of her middle finger. She propped herself up on the other elbow, looking up at Sara’s face. “Better?”

“Better would be your tongue,” Sara said, eyes closed and neck bowed. She was breathing hard, hips twitching up into Mila’s hand, and growled when Mila bent up and kissed her mouth hard, before trailing her lips down to meet her right hand.

Sara still smelled of sweat and spandex, and Mila felt high off it as she buried her face in Sara’s groin, reaching for her clit to tongue and nip over and around it. Sara’s legs fell open wider, and Mila reached up to grasp onto one breast as she worked Sara the best she knew how. Sara was nearly silent, just deep ragged breaths as she pushed her hand onto Mila’s head and shoulders. “Fingers,” Sara finally gasped, tightening her own in Mila’s hair. “Use your fingers, please, quickly.” Mila pulled the hand off her breast, pushing it up to her mouth. She felt Sara’s lips close around two of her fingers, tongue moving up and down them, and then Sara was panting again, letting them fall out. “Now, _ please. _”

She came as soon as Mila’s fingers slid into her, her breath becoming so labored that sound was finally coming out. She shook, her mound bumping into Mila’s upper lip in a way that would have been painful if Mila had any nerve endings not in her own clit, and actually gave a little scream when Mila twisted her fingers inside her.

Mila’s face was slick and cold by the time Sara let her slide her fingers out, but Sara kissed her mouth all the same, pushing her onto her back and rubbing her still-wet cunt against Mila’s thigh. “My turn,” she said, the wicked smirk back on her face. “How do you like it?”

“You’re going to kill me.”

Sara nodded and bit the edge of Mila’s jaw. “That’s the idea. Now tell me _ how._”

“Your hand,” Mila said. “Just your hand, and don’t stop kissing me.”

Sara didn’t, not until her hand, stretched somehow to have a finger inside Mila and another circling her clit, had brought her to a screaming orgasm, and Sara had shuddered out her own second against Mila’s leg and the back of her own hand.

“You’re loud,” Sara said into Mila’s neck. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Sorry.”

Sara pinched Mila’s nipple. “None of that. I’ve finally gotten you into bed, I won’t have you apologizing for any of it.”

“All you had to do was ask.” Mila winced at the honesty in her voice, but Sara kissed her before she could say anything else, as hard and dirty as if they hadn’t been fucking for the better part of half an hour.

“Shower now,” Sara said, finally pulling her mouth away from Mila’s.

“I don’t think I can stand that long,” Mila confessed.

“Tough,” Sara said. “I want to hear you come again. The shower echoes.”

Mila groaned but swung her legs over the side of the bed. “We’re not sleeping at all tonight, are we?”

Sara stretched, still on the bed, her back arching and hands reaching high above her head. Mila reached out and cupped her breast again, just because it was there. “Did you want to?”

“Not a chance.”

“That’s what I thought.” Sara stood, holding out her hand. “Come on.”

Mila stood, kissed Sara, and took her hand. Sara grinned and tugged her into the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://thewalrus-said.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/thewalrus_said)!


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